


Some First Date

by asingerofsongs, MayGlenn



Series: Stars and Skies [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alcohol, Amateur Hour, BB-8 Saves The Day, Bounty Hunters, Capture and Rescue, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Poe Dameron/Finn/Rey, Finn Is A Badass, First Date, First Dates, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Gift Giving, Hurt!Poe, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mos Eisley Cantina, Poe Dameron Needs A Hug, Poe Is Dr Kalonia's Worst Patient Ever, Yet Someone Still Gets Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-27 13:23:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6286369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asingerofsongs/pseuds/asingerofsongs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayGlenn/pseuds/MayGlenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Since if I say we won't need the med kit, I will jinx it and both of us will get shot, will you run and grab the right one from supply? I promise I'll be ready to take off when you get back and I won't even stare lecherously at your beautiful ass this time." Poe grinned.<br/>"Sure, and tomorrow time will run backwards," Finn said, laughing, but went to get the med kit, and when he returned, Poe was, shockingly, mostly ready for take-off. </p><p>Or, Finn and Poe's first date doesn't go smoothly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Finn, no, no, stop, you can't—go back and change, go back and— _you can't wear that_. I said we are going on a _date_ ," Poe said with an exasperated sigh. "You don't wear tac gear to a date!"

"I thought this was your _punishment_ courier mission," Snap said, walking by.

"Well—I’m making the best of the situation!" Poe protested, punching the bigger pilot in the shoulder.

"What're you doing?" Snap asked, leaning against the only Y-Wing Poe ever liked to fly, a BTL-S3 with a gunner position for Finn to occupy. Not that they would need it. They were being sent to the Outer Rim to deliver a message to the Hutts with an offer of peace from the Resistance. 

"I was thinking about taking him to dinner and a—Finn!—this is a surprise, _go_ change. I had a nice shirt hanging up for you!" Poe said, kissing him and turning him back toward their rooms.

Finn rolled his eyes at Poe and his nagging about nice clothes, but went and changed into the shirt he found on the back of the washroom door—yes, because clearly it made sense to hang a shirt where no one would _ever_ see it unless they were on the correct side of it when it was closed (and really, Poe, they had a perfectly good closet for these things). He also hid Poe's toothbrush while he was at it, just to be amusing. When he returned, Poe and Snap were having an animated conversation about something. "If what you're talking about is supposed to be a surprise, you should stop talking now," Finn announced before he was within range of hearing their conversation.

Poe beamed as Finn arrived, and it's was Snap's turn to roll his eyes. "Hey buddy, you look great," he said, embracing Finn and kissing his cheek. "Mm, and you smell good," he purred as he leaned in.

" _Okay_ , that's my cue to go," Snap said. "You kids have fun. When are you due back?"

"0800 tomorrow is when you send in the cavalry," Poe answered. "We'll probably come straight back, though. I'll have him home by midnight local, most likely."

"Watch out for this one, Finn, he's a smoothie," Snap whispered, patting his shoulder before moving off.

Poe grinned. "You really do look great. You should wear my clothes more often." Which was a joke, because Finn wore his clothes basically all the time. Poe was wearing his favorite pale orange shirt, which fit him snugly and would frankly have looked obscene on Finn, which was why Finn was wearing Poe’s second-favorite green shirt—and of course, his worn jacket. "I really don't expect any trouble, but if you want to bring your tac gear, you could." Each of them having a blaster strapped to his thigh was probably overkill as it was. The Hutts had so little influence anymore…

"What about something smaller than a blaster?" Finn asked, digging in a crate that had been dragged over from Black One and unearthing a small holdout blaster similar to the one Han had given Rey. It would fit against the small of his back, where at least it wouldn't be obvious under the jacket. He found another and handed it to Poe with a grin, although he wasn't sure where he was going to unobtrusively hide it.

"Ooh, sexy," Poe decided, biting his lip as the shirt Finn wore came up a little, showing skin as he switched out holsters. "Yeah. We can leave the heavy blasters in the ship." He kissed Finn again and started doing pre-flight checks. "You want to check our supplies?" he said, handing another datapad to Finn.

"Yeah," Finn said, taking the data pad and climbing up into the Y-Wing to check that they had everything. "We have your medkit, but not the one for the Y-Wing," he called down to Poe. The X-Wing's medkit contained everything it needed, but it was for a one-person ship, not a two-person ship. "Other than that we're all set," he said as he climbed back down and handed the datapad to Poe.

"Hm? What? Oh," Poe said, letting Finn catch him checking out his butt in those tight black trousers, and he grinned. "Just kidding. _But_ since if I say we won't need the med kit, I will jinx it and both of us will get shot, will you run and grab the right one from supply? I promise I'll be ready to take off when you get back and I won't even stare lecherously at your beautiful ass this time." He grinned at Finn as BB-8 loaded themselves up. "Deal?"

"Sure, and tomorrow time will run backwards," Finn said, laughing, but went to get the med kit.  When he returned, Poe was, shockingly, mostly ready for take-off. Finn climbed up the ladder and bumped one of Poe's knees with the med kit. "You're in the way," he told him as he clambered over him and to his own seat beside him. The med kit stowed next to him, and he secured it before leaning forward. "Think we should get going?" he asked quietly in Poe's ear.

"For two seconds you actually made me believe you were going to ride the whole way in my lap and I'm _disappointed_ , Finn," Poe said, flicking through the pre-flight sheet until it was complete. Y-Wings were hard to mess up, which was why they trained the newest recruits and why, if all went well, he'd talk Finn through some of the basics, because he should learn to fly even if he didn't do it all the time.

But when they were in the air, Poe remembered the problem _he_ had with Y-Wings. "Oh Maker help me it’s soooooo sloooooowwww,” he moaned, jerking on the controls, which did basically nothing, and he whined loudly. He always felt younger around Finn, but this time he felt about ten, and _annoyed_. That was the problem with learning to fly in an A-Wing when you were three. "It's going to be _years_ before we get there, and we're going to miss dinner _and_ the show and—oops," Poe said, clamping a hand over his mouth. "Forget I said that!"

Finn laughed at the complete and utter impatience that Poe had for slow starfighters. "I think _years_ might be taking it a bit far. This isn't exactly a freighter, even if it's not Black One." No, it wasn't fast, but it could have been a lot slower. It even had hyperdrive.

"Look, it has autopilot, right? Put it in autopilot and we'll play cards or something." Snap had taught him "Go Fish" which was about as boring a game as any he could think of, but it was probably more amusing than watching the base grow smaller and smaller with excruciating slowness.

"Maybe later," Poe said, with an idea and a few switch flicks: "Now, I'm switching main piloting over to you, my handsome gunner/copilot," Poe said, as the nose began to dip (slowly) toward the ground. "Even her out by pulling on that big handle there, that’s called the yoke." He turned to Finn sitting beside him and put his own hands behind his head. "Surprise flying lesson. Don't worry, I promise you can't screw this up. The Y-Wing is about as easy as I am, heh. Han Solo taught me how to swim like this once, you know, just threw me into the water when we were... _Okay, any time_ , Finn, or we will eventually crash."

Surprise flying lesson seemed like a less-than-stellar plan, but since Poe had already switched control to co-pilot and Finn had no idea how to switch it back, he pulled the yoke that Poe indicated to get the nose of the Y-Wing up again. "That's kind of like the big cannons," he told Poe. Except the worst that could happen with a cannon is you missed... There was no danger of slamming a gun with yourself and your boyfriend into something like there was with a starfighter.

"Yeah, great. Think of it like aiming a really big gun, except you’re aiming to _not_ hit things," Poe said, settling back but watching the computers to check his progress. "You want to stay above 7,000 meters. Just try it out, I'll program the nav computer for the hyperspace jump and then take over," Poe said, focusing most of his attention on that. "You're doing great, Finn. Oh, and BB-8's messages will translate on that screen directly above you. They're suggesting you use both hands."

"I _am_ using both hands," Finn said, although, point to BB-8, one was really more resting on the handle than it was actually doing anything. "It's nice to actually understand you for a change, BB-8," he told the little droid, who made a rude noise that the computer didn't translate. Finn assumed it was the human equivalent of a snort. He laughed and went back to minding their altitude, bumping the nose of the Y-Wing up a little when it hovered too close to 7,000. For awhile, he attempted to keep it right at 7,000, just for his own amusement.

"You're a natural, Finn, way to go," Poe encouraged with a smile. "I'm taking control back now to jump to hyperspace," he said, making the adjustments and guiding them up out of the atmosphere, which could be a little rocky. "Okay, hold on—" There was a disorienting blur and then they were in hyperspace. He sighed. "Okay, the computer takes over from here," he said, undoing his safety harness and leaning over the back of the seat. "Now what's this about Go Fish?...."

They played Go Fish until BB-8 chirped at them that they were almost there and should prepare to land. Luckily, Poe didn't make Finn actually land the Y-Wing, although he did have him take control to get them through the atmosphere and closer to the planet.

They delivered their message without any problem, which was a blessing, and were finally free to do whatever they wanted until they had to return to base.

Finn, well aware that Poe was up to something, looked expectantly at him as soon as they were outside. "Dinner?" he asked.

Poe straightened his tie (yes, he was now wearing a tie) and grinned broadly. "Finn, it would be my greatest pleasure if you would allow me to take you to dinner and a show this evening before heading back to base," he said formally, holding out his hand for Finn to take. "Please act surprised, I know I already spoiled it," he added in a dramatic whisper.

BB-8 made an irritated noise and told Poe he would stay with the ship.

"You didn't spoil it, technically, since I still have no idea where we're going," Finn said as he took Poe's hand.  "Other than Maz Kanata's place, all I've had so far in the whole universe is the cafeteria food back on base.  And—what’s a show? Is there music?" he asked excitedly. He liked music, in general. There were many kinds, and it wasn't as if he'd ever heard any of them before, so they were all new and interesting, even if he didn't like them for very long.

"Yeah! We're going to the only happening place on this forsaken planet. Great food—well, by great, I mean artery-clogging goodness and we won't need to eat for a week—and there's a band giving a concert there. Say what you want about the Hutts, but they hire some good talent, so this is the only place you'll ever see Beppo and the Beptones this close! Like, I mean seriously, they're huge, I've played you some of their stuff, and they sell out Coruscant concert halls, 50,000 people. We'll get a table twenty feet from them, it'll be awesome! I might even get an autograph..." he said, trailing off as though these were his plans for world domination, but he turned back to Finn with a blinding smile. "What do you say?"

"Sounds great! Lead on!" For once in his life, Finn was not the one dragging someone around by their hand, something he still did more often than anyone he knew. He didn't exactly remember which band it was that Poe was talking about, but if he'd played their music for him, he was sure he'd recognize it eventually. "Isn't it a bit odd that we're...you know, trying to make nice with the Hutts? I'm surprised the General is even on neutral terms with them..." Finn said as they walked.

Poe shrugged, walking backwards so he could squint at Finn through the Tatooine heat. "Yeah, well, they're rich. It's the way of the universe. We've mostly abolished slavery here—you can thank General Organa for that—but they're still scum for the most part, in my opinion. Still, we'd rather have their money and weapons on our side than against us, though it's just as likely the Hutts will play both sides as long as they can." He shrugged. "It's not great, but it's better than pissing them off so they side with the First Order. It’s lucky the First Order are the racist douchebags who don’t like dealing with non-humanoid species, so that will…help. Anyway, that's the _other_ reason we don't necessarily want to broadcast who we are," he said, which was why he had made Finn leave his jacket in the starship.

It was still hot inside the cantina, but it was so much cooler than it was outside that it felt nice. It wasn't too busy yet, so they had no trouble picking a table. "Want to get a bit of a drink on before dinner? I'm buying!"

"Noooo, you know me, I'll end up drunk before we even eat and it won't be good," Finn answered.  He looked with interest around the cantina, unaccustomed to so much noise and so many different people. It was kind of like sensory overload, but in a good way—everywhere he looked, there was something interesting happening.

"Okay, okay, I'll just get you something to nurse until they start serving food. Hang out here, I'll be right back," Poe said, going up to the bar and ordering two Juri Juices—top shelf, incredibly overpriced but worth it—and they came in tall glasses and changed colors from the top of the glass to the bottom. "You'll like this one," Poe said, "it's sweet and sour and not too—" he tasted it, "okay, it's moderately alcoholic. Sip it slow. Hang on." Poe came back with a dish of fried vegetables to go with their drinks. "How is it?"

"This is one of those that could be dangerous because it's so sweet, isn't it?" Finn asked when Poe returned.  The drink was really good—while he could taste the alcohol, it wasn't painfully strong, and neither was the sweet nor the sour. "What's it called? What are _these_ called, for that matter?" he asked, gesturing at the vegetables.

"Juri juice!" Poe exclaimed, glad to be the first to give it to him. "Well, with vodka or something. And we're only having one each. I'm driving, anyway." He crunched into some sort of root vegetable with a grin. "These are, what, tempura? Fried veg? The only way to eat veg in my opinion, here, try this one," Poe said, grinning at Finn fondly. Possibly his favorite part about Finn was how cute he looked when he experienced new things.

Finn crunched on the vegetable that Poe handed him—the fried part had a similar texture to the frogs Poe was so fond of, but the vegetable was...kind of sweet? Finn wasn't aware vegetables could taste good, and he gave it a surprised look before eating the rest of it.

Poe leaned on a hand, staring openly. "You are, if I may say, the handsomest man in the galaxy. You deserve a better first date, but we take what we can get in this line of work. How do you like it? Oh! I have something for you." Poe said, rummaging in his pockets.

"It's probably the shirt," Finn joked. "This is fantastic. Look at all the people!" He gestured to the entire room, but subtly, so no one would think he was pointing at them and get angry. The music hadn't even started yet, and he was already having the most fun he'd probably ever had. "Best first date I've ever been on," he told Poe.

Poe blushed. "Well, good, then take this," he said, setting a small pouch on the table. "You may remember from your books that it's customary to give gifts on dates—er, since I'm buying, I should also give the gifts. I know, it doesn't sound fair. And to be fair, it's a _homemade_ gift..." He motioned for Finn to open it.

Finn reached for the small pouch and gently tugged it open, glancing up at Poe as he did. "Next time, I buy, right?  And then I get to give you something," Finn said, excited. He could make something, he was sure...he hadn't decided what, but he'd only just given it some thought. He'd come up with something. "You made this?" he asked as he pulled a metal bracelet from the pouch.

Poe beamed excitedly, leaning in. "Yeah, yeah, it's filings from Black One from when I took that hit last time and they had to repair the weapons system. I, ah, wound it together, filed it so it shouldn't be sharp anymore, and painted it colors you can remember me by. The black for Black One and the orange for my flight suit, or BB-8, or—oh wait, is that too cheesy? You don't have to wear it. It's really kind of tacky!" he said, suddenly nervous.

"It's perfect," Finn said, and leaned around the table to throw his arms around Poe's shoulders, kissing his neck a few times. "You're wonderful," he told him softly. Then he leaned back and slipped the bracelet over his hand, smiling as it settled around his wrist.

Poe blushed and giggled. "You're too nice to me. Too nice, Finn." He settled back and watched the bracelet hanging on his wrist. It _was_ kind of tacky, but that made it all the more romantic, he supposed. "I'll go put in our food orders. You mind if I order for you? There's this really good—it’s this spicy meat stuffed inside other meat—no frogs or bugs, though, promise." He stood abruptly, a blush high on his cheeks.

“You know more about food than I do," Finn said and watched Poe make his way to the bar.

Finn went back to his drink and to people-watching. He'd dropped his guard, becoming far too interested in everything going on around him, and never noticed someone stumbling into his chair.

He did, however, notice a stabbing pain in his neck, and his eyes went wide as his body stopped responding to anything. He felt himself hauled to his feet and tried to alert Poe, but he couldn't make any noise.

Poe glanced back at Finn periodically, but there was a bit of a line, and a—soldier? bounty hunter? in a red cloak—asked him if he had any opinions on the YT-1400 model they were coming out with—and of course Poe had exactly fourteen hundred opinions on that, and he had placed their order before he looked up and saw that Finn was gone. Frowning, he paid hastily, and returned to the table. Maybe Finn had gone to the can? It wasn't like he had to watch him every second of every day, but when Poe looked back at the bar the man in red was also gone.

 _Fuck_.

...

Finn was well aware of what was going on around him, but he couldn't do anything about it. He saw Poe at the bar as they dragged him away, and he saw the man dressed all in red follow them out.

If he hadn't been immobilized, he would have given them all a run for their money. As it was, all he could do was hope that Poe noticed he was gone sooner, rather than later, and could figure out which direction they'd gone.  There was, as far as he knew, no reason anyone should want to kidnap him, except to return him to the First Order, which made a shiver run right up his spine.

...

Okay, there were at least two of them, Poe thought, both in red—that helped, what was this, amateur hour?—and after he spread some coin around (they used actual coin out here) he did see someone leave with Finn, and the barkeep, who didn't want any trouble, let him see the holopanel of Wanted posters.

FN-2187 was one of them, and Poe's stomach churned with rage. It was issued by the First Order.

He deleted it from the archives, for what good that would do.

"Do you know where they're staying?" Poe said evenly. He found he was much more _smooth_ when he was angry or scared than when he was happy, which was good.

He was very, very angry, and twice as scared. He may have been acting like a lovestruck idiot before, but he was a cool motherfucker now.

The barkeep would tell him anything for enough money, as all good barkeeps, and Poe soon set off for the star destroyer crashed on the edge of town. The ransom was in imperial credits, which didn’t go far—he could easily outbid these...scum, with the actual coin he had.

Not that they deserved that. He went back to the ship for both heavy blasters, and his jacket.

…

The men who'd taken Finn were only interested in his wellbeing insofar as he was not dead by the time they got him back to the First Order. They dragged him to an old Star Destroyer, somehow contriving to bang his legs off of every single possible obstruction on the way. They dropped him, yanked him along by one arm until that was too hard, and then one of them heaved him up over his shoulder to carry him. He was dumped none too gently on a hard metal floor, some makeshift cell built from spare parts pulled out of an old Star Destroyer.

"Go inform the First Order that we have their traitor," one of the men snapped before turning his attention back to Finn and staring at him unsettlingly. Finn glared at him as he strode closer to get a better look, but it only seemed to amuse him.

Finn had a bad feeling about this.


	2. Chapter 2

Poe reached the Star Destroyer by nightfall, ducking behind a dune to survey the area through binoculars. There was a ship still there, thank the stars, and one sentry.

He took careful aim and fired. One shot. No more sentry.

He moved in and reached into the starship's engine, taking out a crucial power coupling and tossing it into the sand. No more ship.

Poe was grinding his teeth, every sense on alert as he donned the dead man's helmet and cloak. Poe knew he would never make a good soldier—he was too reckless, questioned authority—but when angered he had the makings of an _excellent_ assassin.

…

As soon as he realized that feeling was returning to his toes and fingers, Finn started planning an escape.  If Poe couldn't find him, he'd just have to go find Poe before the pilot had a heart attack, and before anyone tried to send him back to the First Order. He was under no delusions as far as what they'd do to him: reconditioning was probably the _nicest_ thing, and that was if he was lucky.  If it came down to it, he'd sooner die than forget Poe and Rey and everyone at the base. He wouldn't let them reprogram him and then send him out to kill his friends.

First things first, he'd have to take out his guard. That should be comparatively easy, given that after that he'd have to take out at least several more, and then find his way back to the Cantina without getting caught. But he'd already done the impossible by escaping the First Order in the first place, so it wasn't entirely a hopeless situation.

...

Poe had a vibroblade, and his parents were Rebel guerrilla fighters, so frankly, he knew how to use it when he wanted to be silent. One more bounty hunter down just inside, silently. There couldn't be that many more? The red outfits were repurposed imperial guard armor, which was just tacky. Who celebrates the losing side anymore?

Poe ducked into a supply closet as two of the bounty hunters met in the hall.

"I'm about to check the ship now."

"Hurry, the prize is waking up."

Fuck you, he's _my_ prize, Poe thought, but managed to wait. He would have maybe a minute before that guy went out to check the ship and found three dead bodies.

As soon as they left, he sprinted, following the other bounty hunter (hopefully) to the room where they were keeping Finn.

Luckily, this was amateur hour, because his bluff: "Cover me, we've got two men down, we need to get the bounty out now," worked.

"Right behind you."

Finn was about to do something about maybe getting out of the cell when not one, but two of the bounty hunters entered. He wasn't expecting them quite so soon, but that was fine. With the wall as support, he pushed himself to his feet, and when the first bounty hunter was within reach, he lashed out with a foot and grabbed at the ridiculous robe they were wearing, yanking it forward and then throwing the person backwards against a wall. One down, one to go, he thought as he sized up the other one, who was hovering just out of reach.

Glad to see Finn looked all right (and _fuck_ he could move, even handcuffed) Poe grabbed him by the elbow and hauled him out, pointing the blaster at him. "It's _me_ , Finn. I'm gonna get you out of here," he whispered. "Let me do the talking." Though he frankly didn't want to _talk_.

Poe very nearly got an elbow to the face when he hauled him out of the cell before he let him know it was him. As it was, Finn didn't quite manage to pull his punch completely—but he hit Poe in the shoulder instead, and it probably played right along with this act he'd thought up. Finn put up a token struggle, just for show, but by now Poe had seen him fight enough, had _fought_ him enough, to know when he wasn't putting any effort into it.

Poe smiled under the helmet. "So they didn't hurt you?" he whispered, though Finn couldn't answer before three more bounty hunters turned around the corner. "Someone's trying to steal our bounty!" Poe shouted at them, making his voice gruff. "We need to get him to the ship!"

"Where are Lux and Rollin?" one of them said.

"Take off your helmet," another demanded.

"Okay and we're running," Poe hissed, shoving Finn behind him and around a corner. "GO!"

"Running!" Finn answered, although he was somewhat less graceful about it than he could have been.  He managed to trip over his own feet several times, but managed not to fall on his face.  "Poe, get _up_ here," he snapped, reaching behind him and grabbing Poe's wrist so he was running next to him instead of behind him, where Finn couldn't see to check on him.

Poe lost the helmet, shoving Finn so that they careened around a quick corner, and another, and he pressed Finn against the wall and waited until footsteps thunked past. He waited for ten seconds, hand on Finn's mouth, and then he removed it and kissed him. "Oh stars, Finn, I'm so glad to see you, are you all right?" He kissed him again before he remembered to cut the binders (and in any other situation that would be _fun_ but not _now_ , Dameron) and hand Finn a blaster. "We've got quite a run back to the ship, but I disabled theirs, so it's a footrace. Tell me they made you run twenty miles before breakfast back in the First Order or something—so you can carry me." He flashed Finn a giddy and cocky grin.

"Sure, I'll carry you anywhere you need to go," Finn answered, burying one hand in Poe's hair and kissing him one more time. "Alright, kiss later, escape now," he said with a wry, somewhat sad grin—Han Solo's not-so-famous, not-quite-last words...

"You wouldn't carry me," Poe teased, but they had already stayed too long, and they heard footsteps and voices. "Come on," he hissed, keeping low and taking them back out the only way he knew for certain. "Do you know how many there were? I took care of three on the way in, and the one you got..." Poe had his answer in the spray of wild blaster fire and shouts of "We've got em!" that had them sprinting for their lives: that answer was "enough." "Go, go, go!" Poe shouted, and they had an adorable running match where each tried to outrun the other while simultaneously putting himself in the way of the blaster fire behind them, so it rather looked like they were trying to figure out how to hold hands while running.

Poe realized he had been shot only after he hit the ground in a whirlwind of limbs and ended up with a mouthful of sand.

Finn nearly fell when Poe did, not expecting their forward motion to be suddenly halted. He stumbled and turned, firing off a couple shots just to keep the bounty hunters back, and crouched down next to Poe. "Poe? Buddy, you did not have to get shot just to see if I'd carry you or not," he said. Humor, yes, that was clearly the best way to handle the situation. "Can you get up?" he asked, putting one hand on Poe's shoulder to make it clear he was there to help.

Poe blinked. "Have I been shot?" he asked, but attempting to move made him realize, "Ow, kriffing fuck, yes, I have definitely been shot." He grabbed his back, trying to feel how bad it was or where it was or were any intestines falling out. "This was my favorite fucking shirt," he said, sounding betrayed, and letting Finn pull him to his feet.

"You're worried about your _shirt_?" Finn asked indignantly, "You've been _shot_ in the _back_ and—" he stopped, too disbelieving to even finish that sentence.  He glanced off toward the bounty hunters' ship instead, noting that they appeared to be following.  "I don't think we can outrun them anymore.  Can you still shoot?" he asked. Two trained soldiers against a handful of apparently untrained amateurs weren't quite the longest odds he could think of, especially since they had the advantage of being able to see them coming.

"Yeah, I can run," Poe gasped—but that wasn't what Finn asked. "Oh, yeah." He coughed, got to his knees. He luckily still had his blaster. "Yep, I'm here. Get behind me, no sense in both of us getting shot," he grunted, and fired. Luckily, the bounty hunters’ blaster points gave them away, and the heavy blasters Poe preferred packed a powerful punch—enough that each shot sent a bolt of pain down his side, but the adrenaline and fear (and he was still _angry_ at these bastards) were greater than the pain right now.

Finn took a position next to Poe and fired off a few shots of his own, glancing over after each one to check that Poe hadn't fallen over.  He was still upright, but he was grimacing in a way Finn was pretty sure he wasn't aware of. "Poe, take a break," he told him finally, "Let them get closer. Maybe they'll decide we're too much trouble and go away."

Poe collapsed against Finn's leg, groaning. His eyes were still working (pilots had to have good eyes), and in the gloom there was a reflection of something _far_ too close, and Poe fired. The man screamed as he died. "How many were there?" he growled, checking how many shots he had left.

"Can't have been that many, with the ones we already took care of," Finn said, leaning on Poe in return to give him a way of standing—or sitting—upright. He didn't see any more bounty hunters, and everything had gone as quiet as it should have been without blaster fire and yelling. "Can you tell me what hurts worst?" Finn asked, hands itching to check Poe's injuries, but still concerned a bounty hunter might surprise them.

"My shirt," Poe grumbled, trying to be brave, though the pain was spreading like fire through his chest, making it painful to breathe. Another one! Poe spotted and shot, firing three shots this time to down the guy.

And then four things happened all at once, or so it seemed to Poe, for whom time was doing strange flips and flops, slow-downs and skipping, anyway: a bounty hunter, huge and red-cloaked, came up behind them; they turned, too late, and Finn was knocked down; Poe cried out and dove on top of him; and the sound of a debilitating electric shock and BB-8's triumphant beeping followed by the thump of a body hitting the sand made Poe sag in relief and seriously consider unconsciousness.

“Poe!” Finn grabbed Poe to stop him moving around, shifting until he could comfortably sit with his head and shoulders in his lap and lean forward to see where exactly Poe was injured. He dipped his head to kiss Poe's forehead before feeling under him first on one side, then on the other. When he found the wound, still seeping blood regardless of the cauterizing heat from the blaster shot, he paused for a moment to rest his forehead against Poe's, unsure if he needed the comfort or if he thought Poe might. He was having trouble discerning just how much pain the pilot was in through all that ridiculous bravado.

"Hey, BB-8, way to go," Poe said, lifting his head briefly, though that turned out to be a bad idea, and he put his head back on Finn's thigh with a soft moan. "Yeah, you were right, I _was_ agitated. These guys tried to steal Finn away from us!" BB-8 continued to bleep at him rapidly. "Me? Malfunctioning? Nah, just a scratch. How's the jacket?" Poe asked. He really hoped there weren't any more bounty hunters because he didn't want to get up from where he was, and he felt a little woozy.

"It's not quite ruined yet," Finn muttered. "Poe. Don't do that dreamy-eyed look with me, you need to stay aware. We have to get back to the Y-Wing."  He looked over at BB-8, who was chattering loudly and insistently.  "Buddy, I don't know what you're saying," he told the little droid.

"He says we should get into the X-Wing. Y-Wing. Shit. BB-8, it's—klicks—oh you _brought_ it?" Poe got up on one elbow, feeling an unsettling rush of warmth down his side. "Fuck. Put pressure on—it’s on my—back," he gasped, sitting up and shrugging out of the jacket.

“Would you stop? I know what to do for a blaster wound,” Finn said. It wasn't clean, but he tugged off the bounty hunter's cloak and wrapped it around Poe's middle, tying it tightly. After this, Poe felt suddenly weak and shaky, and BB-8 was trilling something about vitals and shock and that sounded fake to Poe. "Finn, I think—it hurts," he said, unhelpfully, not what Finn needed to hear, and he corrected: "I think I need—help."

Finn grasped one of Poe's wrists, mostly to reassure both of them, but also to feel for what his pulse was doing. They'd been very clear in first aid training at the base: deal with bleeding injuries first, then check pulse and for other indications of shock. Finn wasn't surprised that Poe's pulse was too fast and his hands were cold, but it wasn't a great sign that Poe was going into shock.  "Hey, I'm going to help you, okay? You know I aced the first aid class, right?  If I can deal with a simpatient with a sucking chest wound, we can handle this. The ship is just over there, and you probably shouldn't walk to it, but I have a feeling you're going to try anyway, so let's at least get you up." He'd be easier to catch and carry if need-be, that way. Really, he shouldn't be moving at all, but they didn't have a lot of options. "BB-8 is going to go ahead of us and get the ship ready for takeoff. Right, buddy?" Finn asked the little droid, who made some more worried sounds and rocked uncertainly, not leaving. "I've got him, I promise," he added gently, and with a last whistle, BB-8 rolled off toward the ship.

Poe nodded, finding it strange how relieved he was that Finn seemed to have complete control of the situation (even if Poe knew Finn was probably just as scared as he was). "Sorry I let them take you, Finn," he moaned as Finn hauled him to his feet. "Oh kriff, ow—ohhh—Finn." Poe let out a whimper he didn't mean to voice as Finn led him, limping, to the Y-Wing. He leaned heavily on his friend, feeling dizzy and weak and in serious pain. "Y-you know I kinda like it when you take control like this," he said, making a joke he was sure Finn wasn't going to get, and he let his head fall against Finn's shoulder.

" _You_ didn't let them do _anything_. They tricked you, and they took me by surprise," Finn growled, angry more on Poe's behalf than on his own. When they finally reached the Y-Wing, Finn stopped and gently pulled on Poe's arm so he was leaning more heavily on him and could take a break, and gave the ladder up to the cockpit a long, considering look. "I'm glad these are short," he told his friend, "You climb in front of me, in case you fall," he told Poe. In reality, if he stood one rung below Poe, he could probably do a reasonable amount of the work himself, if Poe would move his feet where they needed to go.

"Not gonna fall," Poe ground out, sounding petulant, but he only got about two steps up before his vision swam and he gripped the ladder rungs tight. "Kriff oh kriff, Finn, I'm gonna—" Not gonna make it, that was it, he wasn't going to _fall_ , but that was because Finn was already catching him and hauling him up the rest of the way, because when he blinked, Finn was settling him into his seat. "Thanks," he said, head clearing, and before Finn moved away Poe snuck a kiss on Finn's cheek. "I can get us in the air," he insisted. His hands were shaking but he could do this. Not being able to fly was like not being able to breathe, he was _okay_ if he could do this one thing. BB-8 bleeped in alarm. "I'm not getting us killed, I'm getting us out of here," he protested.

"You and BB-8 do that, I'm going to get the medkit," Finn said, settling into his own seat and pulling the medkit from where it was stowed.  He heard BB-8 chattering at Poe, and Poe bickering back, which probably meant he wasn't at death's door, but he was very pale, and he was clearly shaking. "Buddy, I'm sure you're scolding enough for both of us, but I can't get us out of the atmosphere any better than he can, so figure it out," Finn finally told the droid. He'd apologize for ordering them around later, when they all had a second to breathe.

BB-8 trilled an annoyed [Affirmative] that read across both their screens, and Poe sighed. "Now if you'll stop fighting me," he said, using his left arm mostly since his whole right side was sluggish and in a lot of fucking pain, Poe coasted them along the sand (only a little wobbly) until he got them in the air. This Y-Wing seemed a little faster than last time, which was good. No pre-flight checks, just into the air. He wanted to be gone and frankly didn't think he would last long enough to do anything else. "BB-8, need you to program for hyperspace, okay, buddy?" he said, as he fought with the controls to get them out of atmo. "Hey, Finn, Finn?" Poe was aware he was slurring, and he patted Finn's knee, leaving a stain of blood. "This is how you land," he said, proceeding to instruct him through the motions. "BB-8 can help you."

"I can't—" Finn started, about to tell Poe just how ill-equipped he was to land anything, even a little Y-Wing that they used to train new recruits.  But you were supposed to keep injured people from panicking and making any shock that was already present worse, so he shut his mouth and listened. "Got it. Nothing to it, right?" he asked. The medkit was already open and on his lap, so he patted Poe's hand and pressed a quick kiss to his temple. "Hey, do these seats go back at all?  You'll be more comfortable laying down than sitting up, I'd bet. I need to look at your side," he said. Poe was already slurring, which was...not great, but at least he was conscious, for now. 

"Great. BB-8 will help," Poe said carefully, and once they were in hyperspace he calmly reached down to shift his seat back slightly. "Hand me that—bag, yeah, thanks," Poe said, and managed to be sick in the correct place, which made lightning shoot up his spine and he was sweating and violently shivering when he finished.

Finn disposed of the sick bag like it was nothing and pressed the bandages to Poe's back. "So how'd you find BB-8?" he asked, hoping he could keep Poe conscious and distracted if he could keep him talking.

"I, ah, met BB....8, at the factory. When I got Black One. They—came together. Was—twenty, I think? Republic Academy. BB-8 liked me because I already knew binary and they could talk to me. Didn't shut up..." Poe said, partially to calm Finn and BB-8, but knowing it helped him, too. Finn had shifted him so he was on his side, his back to Finn, which he didn't really like, but Finn was touching him, replacing the red cloak with bacta bandages, which immediately felt better.

"Think you could teach me binary?” Finn asked. “Rey understands droids too, and I'd like to be able to talk to BB-8," When he was finished, he tugged gently on Poe’s shoulder to roll him onto his back. "Here, sit up," he said, wrapping an arm around Poe's shoulders and pulling him back, so his head rested on his shoulder and he could wrap the bandages against Poe's side with more bandaging material that he found in the medkit.

"Been through some scrapes with me, huh, BB? Worse than this." 

[Can’t think of any right now] BB-8 chirped in irritation as Poe added, "Can't think of any right now."

"You didn't have me, in those other scrapes," Finn growled protectively to both BB-8 and Poe before letting him lay back down.  Next, he dug out one of their water bottles and a straw (from the medkit, of all places) and held the water out toward Poe. "Can you drink? Otherwise we're going to have to figure out this IV thing sooner rather than later," he asked.

Poe moaned appreciatively at the embrace, but Finn must have taken it for pain because it didn't last long enough. At water, he nodded, grasping at the water and gulping at it. He nodded gratefully at Finn. "Glad I have you." He swallowed. "Finn, I'm a little...cold," he admitted, before BB-8 could give him away, since the little bugger was giving a running tally of his vitals. He didn't need BB-8 to tell him that, though, because he couldn't stop shaking. "Hold me—again?"

Finn was completely prepared to twist at the most uncomfortable angle imaginable if it meant he could hold Poe, but it occurred to him that this might not be good for either of them, since it would put Poe at an equally odd angle. "I'm moving your seat. Stay put," he told him, and reached across to hit the button that would put the seat as far back as it would go—they were lucky this Y-Wing had the capability of fitting the longer-legged species as well as humans. "Want to lean on me?  It'll be more comfortable than the seat, or twisting over this whole... thing," he said, motioning to the console that was between them.

Poe nodded, gritting his teeth so they wouldn't chatter. He was beginning to entertain the notion that this was bad, but then Finn slid over into his seat and gently gathered him into his arms and it made Poe miss his _mother_ of all things. But Finn was warm and though thank-force-we're-alive-cockpit-sex was quickly fading from the realm of possibility, he could relax back into Finn's hold and close his eyes and he wasn't quite as cold or—scared, not that he would ever admit that. "Thanks," he whispered, wholly inadequately. "Tell me when we're about to land. When you're...about to land," he mumbled.

"I'll let you know," Finn said, and at a lack for anything to hum the way Poe had done for him, started talking. He told him some ridiculous story Jess had told him that probably wasn't even true and that she'd probably told Poe anyway.

When Poe still hadn't stopped shivering twenty minutes later, even after the addition of a metallicky blanket that heated like an oven, Finn gave his shoulder a squeeze to get his attention. "Hey, you remember that IV I mentioned might have to happen sooner rather than later?" he asked softly, "I think it's officially sooner." The stuff in the medkit was some sort of liquid intended to do a slightly better job replacing blood that had been lost than regular saline, but like the bacta bandages, it was only a stopgap measure. Still, if it would make Poe feel better and keep him from getting any worse before they could get back to base, it was certainly better than nothing.

"Y-yeah," Poe said, like he had any idea what was going on, and he watched Finn feed an injection into his forearm with detachedness. "Thanks," he said, and looked up at Finn with glassy eyes. "Don't know what I'd do without you." A reminder whistle. "You, too, BB." Poe closed his eyes, pressing back into Finn's hold. "Feels good."

Finn scrunched around in the seat so he could better hold on to Poe and re-settled the blanket around them both.  "Let me know if you get too warm," he said softly, and watched the elongated lines of stars outside the window for awhile, his arms around Poe as a constant reassurance that he still breathed, and the situation had not changed. BB-8 continued displaying vital signs on the monitor in front of him, and so all he could do was wait for them to drop out of hyperdrive.  His own adrenaline rush was wearing off, and leaving a sort of hollow not-panic behind that made him tired and a little frightened more than anything. "You doing alright?" he asked Poe when he couldn't stand the quiet any longer.

Poe sucked in a breath. "Yeah. Was worried about you. Dreamed the First Order got you again." He closed his eyes again, panting slightly. "Finn, I'm sorry I almost—" But he couldn't finish.

"No apologizing. Whatever you think you almost did, it's forgiven," Finn said. "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere. First Order isn't gonna get me back, not ever." He wrapped his arms more securely around Poe and read the latest vital signs on his screen. Poe's blood pressure was still...well, wrong, but it seemed at least to have leveled off, and wasn't falling anymore. And his heartbeat, while slow, was consistent and, as far as he could tell, strong enough. "BB-8, can you send a message ahead when we're close enough that we need help as soon as we land?" he asked the droid, and got an affirmative beep in return.


	3. Chapter 3

When the planet loomed up in front of them, Finn received notification that a message had been sent, and he woke Poe with a kiss on his neck. "Hey, we're landing. Need to move," he warned him, before sliding back over to his own seat. He tucked the blanket back around Poe and started going through the procedure he'd learned just hours earlier.

Poe forced himself awake. He felt—well, the best he could say for himself was "conscious" but he also felt sick and in pain and cold still—so, stable, and awake. "Okay, you'll want to ease it off autopilot and be ready to hold the nose up. It'll be a little bumpy coming through the atmo, but just try to hold her steady. You want to follow the green lights on the nav computer, and start slowing her down." That came out surprisingly lucid, if tired-sounding. He wasn’t kidding about being able to fly in his sleep. "You got this, that's right," Poe encouraged, failing to keep his groaning to himself as the ride got bumpy. "Don’t look at me,” Poe growled. “I’m fine. Keep following those green arrows, those are coming from HQ. Don't look out the window, focus on those. There's a...altitude meter, and below that, you want to try to come in between three and five degrees, so start easing her down now."

Finn was tense enough to snap by the time they made it through the atmosphere, but he kept his eyes on the instruments instead of out the window, like Poe was telling him to do, and BB-8 fed him helpful messages when he needed them. "Do I land with the nose or the back first?" he asked a little frantically as they neared the ground.

"The aim is for both," Poe said with a smile. "But the Y-wing can take it. As you get close, you'll activate the anti-grav, cut the engines, and then ease us down." Straining, he reached for the comms, holding the button down. "Control this is Y-7. Poe Dameron here. We got Finn at the helm, can you clear a path for him? Follow those green arrows," he reminded Finn as a staticky reply came back:

"We are all clear for your landing, Finn. Poe, we thought you were hurt?"

"Just a scratch," Poe said, and BB-8 trilled unhappily. He was learning that annoying scream from R2, probably. "Hey, focus, you two. Okay, good, good, Finn. Anti-grav is here: you're going to cut the engines, that red button, and then ease this handle back."

"I—okay. Anti-grav, engines, handle," Finn said. "And don't freak out," he added. BB-8 told him when to activate the anti-grav, and then when to cut the engines. He did his best to ease the handle back, but he was wearing down, and his hands were not especially steady. They thunked down a little roughly and Finn looked over at Poe as BB-8 started shrieking at the people outside the Y-Wing. The cockpit practically blasted open (more of BB-8's help) and Finn jumped over Poe to get to the ladder.

" _He was kidding_ ," he shouted at the medbay team, who had actually turned around and started leaving. They turned to look at him and he waved frantically.  "Hurry up!"  The medical team had the good grace to hurry back toward them as Finn went back into the cockpit to check on Poe.

Poe sucked in a breath at the rough landing and screwed his eyes shut, and when he managed to open them there were lots of faces peeking in at him, and he felt like a bug under a microscope. "Hey, guys," he said, giving them all a weary smile as five pairs of hands lifted him bodily from the cockpit. "Hey, hey, easy with the merchand— _fuck_ ," he groaned as he was jostled slightly, and he grabbed Finn's arm, digging his fingers in. The world tilted and he closed his eyes again, trying not to be sick.

"We're going to sedate him," Dr. Kalonia said as they got him into the gurney. "He's probably moved too much already. Finn, what happened?" she asked as they rushed him to medical.

Poe tensed as a needle bit into the side of his neck, and to his credit he _fought_ sleep every inch, but Finn was still holding his hand and that was okay. BB-8 was following them, all terrified, urgent whistling, and the last thing Poe was aware of was tapping out binary for [Finn] to his tiny droid. He didn't see BB-8 zoom to Finn's heel like a magnet, but he knew they would.

"There were bounty hunters, and they caught me, and then Poe found me, and we almost got away and they—shot him," Finn told the doctor as he followed the stretcher into the medbay. "I'm sorry," Finn said, not sure whether he was apologizing to Poe, who was out cold and couldn't hear him, or to everyone else because Poe was injured and he felt at least partially responsible.

Snap, Jess, Iolo and the other pilots were at the door of the med bay, pressing in.

"Bounty hunters?" said Sall, trying to distract Finn. "I'm sure you'll need to debrief the General, but here, let me take a look at that eye," she said, guiding him to a seat as Dr. Kalonia took Dameron into surgical.

"But—" Finn started, turning to go after Poe. Sall stopped him walking away with a grip on his arm, though, and didn't let go until he had stopped pulling and sat down. He was not fully cooperative, though, staring after the doctor and Poe and pulling away from Sall's hands. "I'm fine, they just..." he waved a hand dismissively, "They did worse to Poe," he said quietly.

"We'll be right here when he gets out. He's in the best of hands," Sall told Finn. "Meanwhile, if you're just sitting here, will you let me see, ah, if any of this blood is yours?"

BB-8 rolled gently into Finn's leg, bleating sadly.

Poe wasn't in surgery long. The bacta already applied had taken care of the minimal organ damage, and his biggest problem was blood loss, and the tissue regeneration that more bacta and more rest would take care of, so they kept him sedated as they hovered him back out to recovery.

Finn was not happy to sit still and wait, but he had to watch out for BB-8, who had followed him very quietly once Poe was out cold.  Finn had almost forgotten about them, which only made him feel guilty, so he sat still and let Sall look after his eye and the other minor injuries he had sustained and then promptly forgotten. BB-8 kept bleating and bumping his leg, so he reached down and rested a hand on the droid's head, patting it as though it were a pet, and not a machine.

"'S okay, buddy.  He'll be fine."  He yawned, sleepy in spite of (or probably because of) everything.  "You did a good job helping me fly the Y-Wing.  Good job." The little droid whistled softly, still practically glued to his leg.

…

"He's going to be all right," Dr Kalonia said. "He's in recovery. Your quick actions saved him, good job paying attention in basic, Finn."

BB-8 was already wheeling around her knees to the recovery room.

"Finn, wait," Sall said, but Finn was already on his feet.

Finn went straight to the recovery room, empty but for Poe, though of course he didn't beat BB-8 there. He couldn't stop the small gasp when he saw Poe, lying absolutely still on the bed on his stomach. There was a blanket pulled up to his shoulders to keep him from getting cold, his tattoos only barely visible. His face was pale, and Finn frowned deeply as he pulled a chair up next to the bed. "You were not supposed to get shot," he told Poe softly, brushing a curl of hair off of his face.

Poe felt like he was swimming. He was under water, deep, dark water, cold, and he didn't like being here. Finn was at the surface.

Poe shifted, fingers and toes twitching. Not swimming. Drugged. He was—just like Finn was drugged! Finn needed him! The First Order was going to—bounty hunters!

Poe opened his eyes and jerked awake, disoriented, blurry. He hurt. He couldn't move. Where was he? Where was Finn?

Finn smiled brightly when Poe finally opened his eyes, but very quickly leaned forward and put a hand on his back, between his shoulderblades, to stop him sitting up.  "Hey, hey, no sitting up.  Stop moving, you'll hurt yourself," Finn said, pressing just enough to keep Poe still. "It's okay, don't panic." He wasn't even sure Poe was panicking, but just in case he was...or was going to...

Poe grabbed his arm. An arm. Dark skin. Finn? "Finn," he slurred, feeling drunk. "Finn're you—? I thought—‘re you—the bounty hunters'n—First Order—you were hurt," he said, reaching up to touch Finn's cheek, below where a cut over his eye was bandaged. "Finn. Okay, buddy?"

"I'm fine—stop moving around or the doctor'll kill me for waking you up," Finn said. He took the hand that was on his cheek and clasped it between both of his. "I got a little banged up, you remember—it's fine, nothing serious. _You_ , however...maybe don't try to be a human shield next time, or whatever you were doing." He crouched down, so Poe could see him easily without squirming around, and smiled. Poe looked like he'd been run over by an X-Wing, really, but Finn had never been so happy to see a face.

"Wasn't on purpose," Poe said, and then snorted. "No, I'm lying, it was on purpose. Well, it was on accident, but if I could take a blaster meant for you on purpose, I would. Every time, Finn. I love you and I don't think I could live without—you. When those bounty hunters took you, I...” _My world ended_. Poe wasn't sure how much of this actually got out, as he was rather fuzzy still. He could get babbly and vulnerable when tired. "Help me roll over," he demanded, fussy.

Finn shook his head fondly. "No, you stay there. Doctor's orders—I hear you're kind of bad at following those." He stood and moved to sit on the bed, maneuvering so he could still hold hands.  But when Poe wouldn’t let it go, Finn figured he was probably allowed to be on his side, as long as it wasn't the one that was close to his injury. "Okay, if you'll stop _fidgeting_ , I will help you roll onto your side," he offered.

Poe nodded, "I'll be good," he said, and managed not to moan or whimper as Finn helped him shift. "Mm," he sighed as he found himself significantly more comfortable. "There's room for you here now," he said, curling his arms in. "I'm still cold," he said, hamming it up enough that Finn would know he was joking as well as deadly serious. "Can sleep when you're holding me."

"You're lucky I haven't had a nap yet," Finn grumbled, but it was good-natured grumbling.  He shifted very carefully until he was pressed against Poe's back, and put an arm around him.  "Better?" he asked, and sighed, relaxing now that he had Poe safe and sound and in his arms, where he couldn't go moving around and hurting himself and upsetting every doctor and nurse on the base.

"Much," Poe said. "Love you." He didn't say 'Don't leave' because he was trapping Finn enough already, and he was sure he would notice if Finn moved, anyway, even drugged out of his gourd as he was. "Bee?" He murmured, voice scratchy, and BB-8's whistle ushered him off to sleep.

"I love you too, Poe," Finn said quietly, hugging Poe to him very gently. He felt the pilot relax in sleep and buried his face against his neck, closing his eyes and reminding himself that Poe would be alright. He was determined to stay awake, in case Poe woke up and needed something, but he'd been running on adrenaline and determination for too many hours. He yawned, forced his eyes back open, and listened to BB-8 as they chirped a quiet little melody. Five minutes later, he blinked and fell asleep.

…

General Organa, after she'd heard about the ordeal, and that Finn wasn't captured and sold back to the First Order, that Dameron would live, and that her message had been delivered to the Hutts, waited exactly three hours. Long enough for a long enough nap in this line of work, but the soonest she could get the information she needed.

"That's hardly regulation use for that bed," she said, finding her former stormtrooper curled protectively around her best pilot, who looked like he was getting the best sleep of his life.

Finn was dead asleep when the General woke him up, and he was disoriented at first, knowing only that he was curled around Poe in a very small, very uncomfortable bed.  Luckily, Poe was too out of it to notice when he started and then very gently moved away from him and sat up.  "Sorry, General," he mumbled, still half trying to get his bearings. However many hours he'd just slept, it had done absolutely nothing for the bruises and sore muscles and cuts from their run-in with the bounty hunters, but he managed to keep himself from wincing as he stood. "Poe said he was cold, and I didn't think he'd go back to sleep, otherwise," he said, which was true.  He didn't add the part that he'd known _he_ would be happier if he was next to him, instead of sitting on an uncomfortable chair and merely holding his hand. "I didn't mean to fall asleep," he added sheepishly.

"I'm sorry to have to wake you, and I'm sure the bed can handle the weight. Poe looks...better than I thought he would, and I'm sure that's thanks to you. Sit down," she instructed, pointing to a chair. "When we're done here, I want you to take these," she set some pills on the table, along with a glass of water, "and return to your, ah, duty." She smiled briefly. "You delivered my message without trouble, and then—was it bounty hunters or the First Order? I'm getting conflicting messages."

Finn nodded and sat gratefully in the chair. That felt awkward, what with the General standing there, so he very quickly shifted to sit just on the edge, as if he were half at attention. "One of them said to 'let them know we have their stormtrooper,' I think, but they never said who they were actually working for," he answered when she asked.  Poe had said something, too, but Finn couldn't remember what exactly he'd said, and it was no more than he already knew. Though, he did remember, "They were wearing red. All over, red hoods, too, and masks. That's how Poe snuck in."

The general nodded. She wanted to ask about loose ends, too, but if Finn was the target, he may not actually know that reliably. This would have to wait for Dameron. He did suffer through mission reports and other paperwork, and yet completed them so perfectly, so she didn't feel even a little bit bad about that. "Very good. I’ll debrief the Commander when he’s awake. You had better get back to your duty, soldier. Those will help with the pain." She turned and was halfway out the door before she stopped: "Thank you, Finn."

"Always, General," Finn responded, since "You're welcome," seemed like a weird thing to say when he'd do it all all over again if he had to, independent of any reason other than that he loved Poe. When she had gone, he reached for the painkillers and water and downed them, then crawled back onto the bed with Poe, dragging another blanket with him this time from the foot of the bed.  He returned to almost the exact position he had occupied previously and waited for the medicine to start working so he could fall asleep again; in the meantime, he was content to listen to Poe's even breaths and the occasional soft click of the oxygen machine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for staying tuned! Sorry this story ends on a bit of a cliffhanger, so check out "This Is Why We Need Therapy" which we'll post next weekend and in which Rey finally shows up!


End file.
